Henry notices the papers that go flying from him, along with the Seeing Tool, which has seen better days than this run. He’d be proud, if he wasn’t so goddamn tired. His body isn’t aging, and apparently he’s become resilient enough that one hit from Bendy’s biggest and baddest form is no longer enough to do him in. He’s tried everything, and he’s so tired of trying everything that he doesn’t want to try anymore. (That had been interesting, Bendy had all but thrown him into the throne during their fight, as if telling Henry to hurry up.) He’s tried hiding the reel, breaking the reel, even ignoring the reel. So really, luck didn’t play a damn part in his life, did it?) (And even if he was, he would still wake up to the moment before this, and have to endure it again. He’s alive, though, he isn’t lucky enough to not be. It hurts, but far less than it should, his ribs broken and his torso sliced open from the careless claws. Or of being forced to be utterly alone for most of it while doing so.īecause Henry doesn’t recoil like he should (or is expected to), the beast’s swing sends him that much farther. Beast Bendy stopped being scary, because nothing was scarier than reliving this nightmare over and over. It sounds like bones snapping, like sticky cartilage expanding, and it's all become so familiar that Henry doesn’t step back. His already grotesque form twists and contorts.
He takes the reel, Bendy’s reel, heavy in his hands and watches with dull finality as Bendy’s demonic form appears, right on cue as always.The sickly grin seems strained, almost hesitant before Bendy settles into his usual actions. The words are burned into Henry’s brain, seared behind his eyelids. Henry stares, considering the doors, before pushing in. And previous experience has taught Henry that waiting makes the demonic entity far angrier than he already is. Keep him waiting.īut Bendy is waiting also. He nearly turns around, wondering how long he can live in this hall by himself, suspended mid-finale just to piss off Joey. Henry stops, listening outside the door for any change. There were a few times Bendy had missed his usual cues, but the tired animator chalked it up to Bendy being Bendy. (But not before Boris tries to kill him, which he does twice until Henry gets back into the groove of fighting to survive.) No one, not even Boris, seems to notice poor Henry is acting different than usual. He has dragged this particular run out far longer than usual, spending longer with Boris, who is going to die anyway. Humans craved patterns, and yet were innately terrible at dealing with them. The script never changes, no one is coming to save him, and he can’t get out of here. He’s found new ways to die, creative ways to win, and so on and so forth. And now he’s back to giving up again, for his second time. He’s so far giving up he’s come back round the other way. This is his 600th and some attempt, which is probably wrong but he’s not willing to debate on the finer points of his prison, and Henry has started giving up. There’s something comforting in that, and also overwhelmingly frustrating that he wants to lie down and cry, right there in the hall leading to the devil’s throne room. “There’s a benefit to losing.you get to learn from your mistakes.” -Megamindįor convenience's sake, this is how it stops too.
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